Time After Time
by Saltandsweat
Summary: *Finished* Why Snape is the way he is. A popular theme but with a twist! Rated R for some stronger sexual references later.
1. Surprises

Chapter One  
  
Ok, please don't flame me. If you don't like it, by all means review, but no unconstructive criticism please. But please do review!!  
  
Snape stalked down the corridor, his eyes gleaming. Students automatically pressed themselves to the walls, and then turned to watch him with puzzled expressions on their faces. The glint in his eyes almost looked like tears from the right angle. Snape, crying?  
  
The Potions master saw the expressions on his students' faces. He blinked hard, trying to keep out the tears. As he turned the corner into his deserted classroom, he laughed hollowly. Severus Snape, the most unemotional man in the school, crying? An absurd thought.  
  
A tear slid out of his eyes and ran down his cheek. He brushed it away absently with a thin, sallow hand, and shook his head slowly as he settled himself at his desk. More papers to mark. More three thousand word essays, set by him. All the same, word for word. All copied off Hermione Granger.  
  
The lucky bitch. She had it all. Friends, brains, looks, love . . .  
  
Snape's mouth twisted into a bitter glare. Yes, she had love. Ron Weasley. Probably the most annoying student in the year, always excepting Neville Longbottom. If Weasley could do it, why hadn't he?  
  
Another tear fell onto Lavender Brown's essay. He could imagine her reaction when he gave her back the paper the next day: "Oooh, look! There's a wet blotch on my paper! I bet he's been crying, I bet he's been sobbing coz he's finally realised nobody likes him!"  
  
A sob welled up in Snape's throat. He threw down his quill and buried his head in his hands. The torches grew dimmer, dimly casting a shadow of Snape's shaking shoulders onto the far wall.  
  
Lily, Lily, Lily . . .  
  
Why Potter? Why James fucking Potter?  
  
Suddenly a distant memory flashed through his mind, a memory of times buried in sorrow:  
  
"Why do you have to argue so much, Severus? He's never done anything to you!" She was standing over him in the corridor, late at night. He and James had had another brawl. James had stalked off, leaving Lily to take care of the battered and bruised Snape.  
  
"Lily, with all due respect, you have no idea what's going on between me and James Potter!"  
  
"But why do you hate each other? You're so alike-"  
  
Snape lunged up at Lily. "Me, like that scumbag? Are you suggesting that I tend towards the same selfish, heart-breaking habits as he?"  
  
Lily looked at him uncertainly. "What do you mean? Surely you don't- Oh god." The colour drained from her face. "You don't. Please tell me you don't."  
  
He sighed, rolled over onto his stomach, covered his face with his hands. "You know I do, Lily. You've known for a long time."  
  
That much was true. Lily lowered her head.  
  
Snape nodded. "Since first year, Lily. I love you."  
  
The Potions master shuddered, breaking the rhythm of his sobs. How could he have told Lily that? Why had he started along that dreadful path. He remembered the moment when the idea for that dreadful act had first popped into his head. A fleeting shadow of a thought.  
  
But he could not think of it. Could not bring himself to admit to conscious thought what he had done. But Lily. . .  
  
"Professor?"  
  
Snape stiffened, shot up from his stool, sending it flying. Stormed over to the door, to seize. . .  
  
Harry Potter.  
  
The slight bespectacled seventeen-year-old took a step backwards. "Are you ok, sir?"  
  
What glimmer of sympathy had prompted him to ask that?  
  
"Do I look okay to you, Potter?" he snapped. A stupid question. The boy wasn't about to say 'no sir, you look terrible,' was he?  
  
Potter shifted his gaze uneasily to the floor.  
  
"Don't answer that," Snape hastily said.  
  
"Kay."  
  
"And don't use that annoying half-syllable in my presence!"  
  
"Sorry, sir."  
  
"What are you doing here, anyway?"  
  
"I have detention . . ."  
  
Dammit. How could he have forgotten? You stupid fool, he cursed himself. "Ah yes. Sit down." Potter obeyed, and Snape lowered himself back into his armchair. Snape caught sight of the tearstain on Miss Brown's essay, and hoped fervently that the boy wouldn't see it. Harry sat at attention, waiting to be given orders. My God, Snape thought. He really does hate me. Ironic. I loved his mother, and he hates me. God, I loved her . . . again he dissolved into thought.  
  
"Err . . . sir? The detention?" Harry's voice jerked Snape back to reality. "Ah, yes . . ." Snape's voice trailed off as he tried to concentrate enough to think of a feasible detention. He straightened in his chair and shuffled his papers in a business-like way. Tell him, a voice in his head urged. Tell him what happened.  
  
Snape's heart jumped at the thought of telling somebody those thoughts that had weighed so heavy upon him for so long. But Harry! Potter would never forgive. How could he tell Lily's son that he had-  
  
As he struggled with his desperation to tell another living soul about his past, he noticed that Harry was looking at him very strangely. He knows there's something wrong with me, Snape thought. He knows I'm out of sorts.  
  
To tell him or not to tell him? Harry sat cautiously gazing at him, hiding all his feelings about his dead mother, about Voldemort, even about Snape himself. Poor boy. The thought escaped him before he could automatically catch it and stop himself actually feeling sorry for someone. You stupid bastard, he told himself. Why are you denying yourself human emotions? Why do you sit in your office all day giving bad marks to good people? Why can't you just accept what happened in the past and stop living your life by it? Tell him!  
  
The command of his mind was so loud Snape was sure Harry must have heard it. He made up his mind.  
  
"Harry-" The boy stiffened at the sound of his first name. Snape almost gave up. Then he remembered the misery of the last twenty years. He could not pass up the chance to be released from all that. With a huge effort Snape continued.  
  
"Harry, I'm not going to give you detention." Harry furrowed his brow in puzzlement. Snape knew exactly what he was thinking: Is Snape joking? What's wrong with him? Again the realisation of how much everyone hated him flooded over him, and tears welled up in his eyes.  
  
"No, Harry, I'm not. I need to talk to you about the past. My past. About – about your mother."  
  
"You knew my mother?"  
  
Snape laughed bitterly. "Oh, yes, Harry. I knew her." He paused, trying to find a good place to begin.  
  
"What about her, Professor?" Harry was leaning forward eagerly.  
  
"Be patient, boy!" he snapped. "This isn't the easiest of things to tell someone, you of all people. Just be patient."  
  
Harry nodded and settled back into his chair. And Snape began. 


	2. Effects of Love

Chapter 2  
  
Thanks for all the positive reviews I've had! An author can never get tired of being praised . . .  
  
Snape could remember exactly when it began.  
  
He was sitting on the Hogwarts Express, in his own compartment, staring out of the window. It seemed that all the students had taken an immediate dislike to him. James Potter had seemingly drawn friends like a magnet. Even before school started, the Marauders were together. And everyone loved them.  
  
As he slumped in his seat contemplating popularity, a slim girl with long chestnut hair had run past. Her tinkling laughter echoed down the train. Snape had glanced up at once and dismissed her at once.  
  
Moments later, she ran back the other way. As she passed Snape's compartment, she stopped and looked at him. He stared back disdainfully. The girl looked down shyly, and was about to run on, when she appeared to change her mind, and came into his compartment.  
  
"Are you all right?" she asked.  
  
"Fine," Snape replied woodenly.  
  
"Are you sure? Cause you look a bit miserable."  
  
"No, I'm fine." Snape said these words determinedly, as if to convince himself. He wished she would go away.  
  
"Ok." The girl looked a bit awkward, as if she was not used to being brushed off. "Erm – I'm Lily, by the way. Lily Evans. What's your name?"  
  
"Severus Snape."  
  
"Right. Well, I'd better go back to the others."  
  
"The others?" Snape knew who she meant but needed it be confirmed.  
  
"You know – James, Sirius, Peter, Remus, Libby. That lot."  
  
"Oh, yes. Bye then."  
  
Lily had looked at him in a kindly pitying way, then turned and left. Snape leant back again and ran a hand through his short greasy hair. That expression on her face . . . as if she actually cared about him. Like no one else did. As if she was his friend.  
  
From that moment, Snape loved Lily Evans.  
  
For four years, he watched her. Trying to get her on her own, so he could confess his feelings to her. But she was never alone. Always surrounded by the Marauders and her best friend Libby. Snape often wondered whether she even knew what personal space was.  
  
James Potter, Snape's worst enemy because of his popularity, began seeing Lily in the fourth year. After this Snape stopped trying to get close to her. But he couldn't stop himself glaring bitterly at James Potter every time he passed the two of them together. James couldn't understand this at all – he would look curiously at Snape, not realising his feelings towards Lily. After all, Snape had never even talked to him. He had no obvious reason to hate James. Sometimes James would whisper to Lily, and the two of them would look at him condescendingly. Those were the worst times, when it was obvious from Lily's face that she thought Snape was weird. Snape loathed their expressions, the unspoken knowledge that he could never have Lily, that he had no one.  
  
Naturally, Potions was Snape's best subject, and the then Potions Master loved him. After one lesson when the Master had been particularly nice to him, he passed the Marauders and Lily in the corridor.  
  
"That's him," he heard James say. "That's the freak who stalks me." He was obviously aiming this comment right at Snape. The other Marauders sneered at Snape, but Lily looked shocked at her boyfriend's words.  
  
A huge surge of anger rose up in Snape's chest. That bastard doesn't deserve this, he thought. When he saw Lily's hurt expression, he could not contain himself. He strode across the corridor and flung himself on the still laughing James. James shouted out in surprise, but soon recovered, and his fist met Snape's nose with an alarming crunch. Snape jerked backwards, blood trickling down his face, and pounded James in the throat. James immediately choked, and lay on the floor coughing while Snape proceeded to try and break every bone in his body.  
  
"GET OFF HIM!" Lily's beautiful voice resounded through the corridor. Snape could not deny her. He climbed slowly off the gagging fifteen-year-old.  
  
"Sirius, Peter, Remus," Lily said without taking her eyes off Snape. "Take James to the hospital wing. I can handle this.  
  
James' friends helped him up and led him away. Snape slumped against the wall in despair. Lily stood over him.  
  
"Why do you have to argue so much, Severus? He's never done anything to you!"  
  
"Lily, with all due respect, you have no idea what's going on between me and James Potter!"  
  
"But why do you hate each other? You're so alike-"  
  
Snape lunged up at Lily. "Me, like that scumbag? Are you suggesting that I tend towards the same selfish, heart-breaking habits as he?"  
  
Lily looked at him uncertainly. "What do you mean? Surely you don't- Oh god." The colour drained from her face. "You don't. Please tell me you don't."  
  
He sighed, rolled over onto his stomach, covered his face with his hands. "You know I do, Lily. You've known for a long time."  
  
That much was true. Lily lowered her head.  
  
Snape nodded. "Since first year, Lily. I love you."  
  
Snape drifted back to reality. "I loved her, Harry. I loved your mother." 


	3. The Whole Truth

Chapter 3  
  
This is the last chapter, so it's turned out to be quite a short fic, but it's the second one I've actually finished, so never mind! Please R & R!  
  
Harry sat staring at Snape in disbelief.  
  
"Yes, Harry, I know. You find it impossible to believe that I ever loved anyone. Look at me."  
  
Harry ducked his head in the acknowledgment that Snape was, as Weasley said, 'an ugly git.'  
  
"But it gets worse, Harry."  
  
Harry looked up sharply.  
  
"Oh, yes." Snape closed his eyes and shuddered as the memory of what had happened finally, after twenty years, caught up with him:  
  
He pinned her to the floor, kissing her neck. She struggled wildly as he ripped off her clothes, her cries of "Help me!" echoing into the darkness…  
  
Snape swallowed, fighting back tears. "You see, Harry, I wanted her so much that I didn't care that she didn't want me. My fight with James made me even more determined to have her, whatever she or anyone else said."  
  
The colour drained from Harry's face as he took in what Snape was saying. He raised an accusing finger at his teacher. "You – you – you didn't-"  
  
"Yes, Harry. I tried to rape her."  
  
Harry leapt from his seat as if he had sat on a sword. "No!" he yelled. "How could you do that to my mother? You bastard! You utter, slimy, murdering bastard!"  
  
Snape also stood. "Sit down, Harry. I didn't kill her, and nor have I finished with you yet."  
  
"No!" Harry was sweating and shaking with anger. "I won't listen to you! I can't listen to this!" He tried to flee from the room, but Snape raised his wand and shouted: "Constitio!"  
  
Harry immediately stopped, unable to take another step towards the door.  
  
"Sit down." Snape lapsed back into his soft, dangerous voice. He did not want to be so cruel, but he had to tell him the rest of what happened.  
  
"Harry, I couldn't finish it. Your father found me."  
  
Again Snape sank back into his memories.  
  
Lily was crying out with tears rolling down her face as she tried to stop Snape entering her. He slapped her across the face. "Be quiet!" he hissed.  
  
Suddenly he was being dragged away, pulled away from the woman he loved. "Lily!" he cried.  
  
"Get off her, you filth," James snarled, trying to restrain Snape as he lunged towards Lily again. He flung Snape onto the floor and picked up Lily, wrapping his robe around her. "Lily, my love? Are you all right? He hasn't hurt you?"  
  
Lily clung to him, sobbing. Snape looked on with hatred in his eyes. He longed to attack James, to punish him for interrupting the only act of love he would ever experience. But he could not hurt James while Lily was in his arms.  
  
James shot him a look of pure venom and carried Lily away. Snape mooched off in the opposite direction. James had won again. He had Lily, he had friends, he even had the law on his side now. He would always win. Snape had never had a chance.  
  
Snape sat staring at his desk for a few moments, then looked up. He had hoped for some sign of forgiveness from Harry after he had explained the whole truth to him, but soon realised how futile this was after Harry continued to glower at him.  
  
The voice in Snape's head started again. Don't you think his reaction is understandable, it asked him. How would you feel if you found out your teacher had tried to rape your mother? Snape knew that he would not have been as tolerant as Harry. He put his hand over his Dark Mark on his arm. Voldemort had taught a habit of killing as revenge.  
  
"Harry?" The boy raised an eyebrow. "Harry, I know this is difficult for you. And I don't pretend to know what it must be like. But please think of me for a minute. You've known about this for approximately ten minutes. I've known for twenty years. Every day since I was sixteen I have had to live knowing that I have done something unforgivable to the one person I loved. Every day I have punished myself for it. I have denied myself human emotions, I have denied myself love, comfort, help, knowing I don't deserve it. Everyone hates me, but I go on provoking their hatred deliberately because I know I don't deserve any better. I should have been imprisoned, but surely no horror in Azkaban can compare with the hell I've lived for half my life?  
  
"Please, Harry, I know I don't deserve it, but I need your forgiveness. I left Voldemort because he murdered Lily. I realised then that he was truly evil. I would hope never to be like him." Tears were streaming from Snape's eyes. "Please, Harry. Please." He lowered his face to his desk as the sobs overcame him again. Harry would never forgive him now. There was no way out. The door out of hell had been closed. As Snape realised the uselessness of his situation, he sank slowly deeper into the black hole of despair.  
  
Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jerked up. Harry was gazing at him with tears on his cheeks. Could he actually understand Snape's emotions? Slowly Harry reached across the desk and hugged Snape around the shoulders.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Harry," Snape sobbed. "Do you think your mother would have forgiven me?"  
  
Harry closed his eyes. Snape suddenly realised that this could well be the first time Harry had talked about his dead mother. How could Snape expect him to answer a question about someone he'd never known?  
  
But Harry recovered fairly quickly. "I'm sure she would, Professor."  
  
Snape grabbed Harry's hand and lowered his head to it. "Thank you."  
  
"Professor?"  
  
"Harry?" Snape could not cry anymore, but his voice was still soft and weak.  
  
"Does Dumbledore know about this?"  
  
"No. I never had the courage to tell him."  
  
"Because I think he should know."  
  
Snape looked at Harry, searching his eyes. The boy stared back seriously. A glimmer of something in his eyes told Snape that Harry would help him now, that he had accepted him. The Potions Master sighed. "Okay."  
  
Harry sat by Snape as he told the story to Professor Dumbledore. The Headmaster looked grave.  
  
"This is indeed a serious offence, Severus. I don't pretend that I am not extremely shocked."  
  
Snape looked down. "You're going to sack me, aren't you?"  
  
Dumbledore's face softened. "No, Severus. I can't sack you. Potions is the only thing that has kept you going over the years. It would be like murder to take that away from you. And anyway, if Harry has forgiven you, there is no one that really minds what you did in the past. It is a surprise to me, but I can live with it."  
  
Snape could have sworn that Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling.  
  
"Well, then," Dumbledore continued. "No harm has been done, although a few tears have been shed by the looks of things." Snape and Harry both blushed. "It is getting late. I think you should both go to bed. I will be the first to agree to a nice hot drink, and a cosy blanket. Goodnight, Severus. Harry." He rose, and waved them out of his office.  
  
Once outside, Snape realised that Harry would probably go the opposite way from him. He turned back to the boy, and slowly bent down to hug him and kiss him on the forehead. Then he turned and swept away, smiling properly for the first time in twenty years. You are so lucky, he told himself. You do something like that, and then you get a great job like this, her son forgives you and then so does the Headmaster. Things just keep getting better. Time after time. 


End file.
